Remembering Ben
by blendini12
Summary: While returning from San Francisco, Kitty meets a young cowboy along the way.
1. Chapter 1

**Remembering Ben**

_by blendini_

_**This is a Christmas story I wrote several years ago. I was thinking that some of you missed it the first time around, so thought I'd put it out there now. Merry Christmas!  
_

**_Chapter One_**

She had traveled eighteen hundred miles across the continent, mostly on stagecoach; to run from a life that was choking her young soul. Six months in San Francisco had been a dismal experience for a young woman with few skills, so she regretfully decided to face another eighteen hundred miles to return to her home in New Orleans.

'Home,' she wistfully thought to herself. 'No family…few friends…and a whole lot of bad memories. But at least it's familiar territory…and it's manageable'. San Francisco seemed unfriendly and filled with ambitious men on their way to strike it rich in the northwest. And then there were the broken souls…the ones that had traded their health and happiness for the fruitless search for gold.

Resting her head on the back of the stagecoach bench, the young woman closed her eyes in order to ignore the middle-aged banker from Wichita. Albert P. Jones had been eying the redhead since Grand Junction and was becoming more aggressive with his flirtations.

A thousand miles out of San Francisco found Kitty Russell sitting in her fifth stagecoach as it slowly made it's way through Pueblo, Colorado. The trip had already taken about three weeks and the young woman figured she still had another week before reaching Dodge City. At least then, she would be able to go by train the rest of the way. They had started off from the way station at six that morning and were finally going to take a breakfast stop around ten.

When the stage rolled to a stop, Kitty was relieved to see Albert P. Jones awkwardly climbing out of the coach. She waited for a few minutes as the paunch, round-faced man headed down the boardwalk and then disappeared behind the swinging doors of a saloon.

When she finally climbed out of the cramped quarters that had been her temporary home for several days, the redhead smiled at the stagecoach driver as he took her hand. Stepping down to the boardwalk, she breathed in the fresh air and asked, "How long will we be stopping, Bob?"

"Oh, I'd say about two hours, Miss," the ruddy-faced cowboy replied with a friendly smile. "You have plenty of time to get yourself freshened up at the hotel and maybe have a bite to eat, as well. We'll be stopping overnight in Syracuse and then heading on to Garden City first light of the mornin'."

With a generous smile, she stated, "Well, that sounds really good, Bob. I'll see you in a couple of hours."

Two hours later, the young woman reluctantly returned to the stagecoach and climbed into the cab. Wiping the slushy snow off her skimpy shoes, Kitty silently cursed when she thought about how cold the trip through the prairie was going to be. Darting an unfriendly glance at the banker from Wichita, she settled into a seat across and down from him. While she stared out the window, she considered that at least she felt refreshed and well fed for the next few hours of her long trek.

As she casually gazed down the boardwalk on the opposite side of the street, an interesting sight suddenly caught her attention. Walking across the street and heading towards the stagecoach, was the biggest man she'd ever seen. She figured he was at least six and half feet tall and he was pretty solidly built, too.

As the young cowboy confidently strode across the street, Kitty wondered why he had a saddle slung across his shoulder. She couldn't get a good look at his face, as he had a large beige hat pulled down over his forehead and the collar of his black woolen coat was pulled up high.

Watching the young man throw his saddle and rucksack up to the driver on the roof of the stagecoach, Kitty thought that he must be a drover on his way back to Texas.

As he climbed into the cab, the entire stagecoach tilted sideways, and then slowly straightened out when he sat next to the redhead. Pulling his hat off and dropping it onto his knee, he turned to her and offered a striking smile. "'Mornin', Miss."

Momentarily captivated by the engaging smile and kindly blue eyes, Kitty cleared her throat and sputtered, "Uhm…yes…good morning to you, too, Mister."

With a soft chuckle, he turned to the banker and nodded, "Sir."

Feeling the familiar jolt as the stagecoach moved away from the station, Kitty attempted to make herself comfortable in her seat. Unable to resist the temptation to snatch another look at the young cowboy, she was relieved to see he was preoccupied with unbuttoning his coat. When he started to turn in her direction, she quickly began peering out the window. With a slight smile on her face, Kitty thought, 'This trip just got a whole lot more interesting.'

They traveled for a couple of hours and soon made their way out of the foothills and onto the snow covered prairie. The cowboy hardly spoke for the first while and then dozed off to sleep. Kitty noticed Albert P. Jones becoming irritated by the long legs cramping him and was pained to see the banker slide along the bench so that he was sitting opposite her. Ignoring his lecherous grin, the young redhead scowled and then went back to staring out the window.

"You're a real beauty, Miss. Where did you say you were heading?" the banker asked as he placed his hand on her knee."

"I didn't," Kitty growled, "and get your paw off me!"

Without removing his hand, Jones remarked, "You're a feisty one, aren't you? You're awful young to traipsing around the countryside on your own, you know."

Batting his hand off her knee, Kitty spat, "That's none of your business!" As the banker reached out to touch her arm, she was startled when a big hand came out and grabbed Jones by the wrist."

"The woman doesn't want to be touched, Mister…so why don't you just sit back and rest easy?" the cowboy stated politely. Letting go of his tight grip, the young man waited until Jones sat back in his seat before he pulled his hat over his eyes and went back to sleep.

As they continued to travel onwards, Kitty stared out at the miles and miles of flat, snowy plains. Wondering why anyone would want to settle in such a stark place, she thought, 'At least the bright sunny blue sky keeps it tolerable.' While she was contemplating the pros and cons of prairie life, the young redhead felt an odd sensation, as if the stagecoach was slipping.

Within seconds, she was horrified to see that the entire coach was sliding sideways towards a small hillside, and the driver was shouting at the horses to pull. Suddenly, hearing the horrific 'snap' of the wooden draw-bar breaking, Kitty yelped as the cab started to slide backwards and then sideways, quickly picking up speed with the descending motion. Within seconds, the coach reached edge of the hill and began slipping downwards; finally flipping on its side and rolling twice, before settling at the bottom of the hill.

Feeling a heavy weight on her chest, the redhead pushed Albert P. Jones away and then desperately tried to make sense of what had happened. Slowly realizing the grim situation, Kitty leaned down to check the banker's pulse. Urgently searching for the slightest indication of life, she leaned back and let off a gasp when she surmised that he was dead.

Looking around the partially destroyed cab, she began to feel uneasy when she couldn't spot the young cowboy. Climbing to her feet, she pushed the side door open and scrambled out of what was now the top of the stagecoach. Glancing up the hillside, the redhead spotted the cowboy lying face down in the snow and further along, the driver lying motionless on his back

Climbing down from the coach, she started to make her way up the hill, briefly stopping to look around for the team of horses. When she reached the young man, she knelt down and struggled to turn him onto his back and check his pulse. Noticing the blood oozing from the side of his head, Kitty quickly started tearing off strips of her petticoat. Wiping the blood away from the wound, she wrapped a long strip of cloth around his head to secure a petticoat bandage pad.

Gently shaking his shoulders, she softly uttered, "Mister…can you wake up? Mister?" Not getting a response, she decided to head up to where the driver was and see if she could do anything for him. She wasn't five feet away from him, Kitty could tell by the fixed, glazed over eyes that Bob had died in the accident.

Making her way back to the cowboy, she knelt down and shook him more firmly. "Mister," she stated loudly, "please wake up! I don't know what to do…you gotta wake up now."

As the young man slowly opened his eyes, he looked at her questioningly and groggily said, "What happened? Who are you?"

Briefly explaining about the accident and the two dead men, she smiled at him sympathetically and asked, "Do you think you can get up?"

With her assistance' as well as a focus on ignoring the pounding in his head, the cowboy struggled to his feet. Loosing his balance and starting to stagger, he gratefully accepted her shoulder under his arm as they made their way back to the stagecoach.

When they reached the broken down coach, the redhead quietly stated, "What will we do now?" Looking up at the cowboy, she spotted the bewildered look on his face and asked, "What's wrong, Mister?"

With distressed filled eyes, the young man stated in a heavy tone, "I…I can't remember anything". Looking at her gravely, he dismally added, "I can't even remember my name. Or where I came from…where I was…going."

Gently rubbing his arm, she offered a friendly smile and commented, "Do you remember getting on the stage in Pueblo? You brought a saddle and a rucksack with you".

Shaking his head, he quietly answered, "No…it's all a blank…everything." With a deep sigh, the young man looked around despondently and then said, "We better find some shelter for the night. It's gonna get real cold when that sun goes down". Locking eyes with the redhead, he instructed, "We'll go through the wreckage and take anything we can use. Food, matches, blankets, warm clothes, water…whatever you think we might need." Chewing on his lower lip, he added, "You need to find warmer clothing and maybe some boots". With a slight smile, he asked, "What's your name, Miss?"

Feeling overwhelmed by their desperate situation, the redhead licked her dry lips and replied, "Kitty…Kitty Russell."

"Alright, Kitty Russell…we better get busy here," he stated with a reassuring smile and then started to walk away. He scanned the vast open space for the horses and soon realized the team had wildly run off after the accident.

After a thirty-minute search, they had managed to find some matches, two canteens of water, two blankets, gun belt, pistol, small axe, three chocolate bars, two flasks of whisky, a block of cheese, a bottle of champagne, soap, towels, coffee, a deck of cards, straight edge razor, shaving brush, some cookware and a large knife. The cowboy grabbed a rifle, bullets and bedroll from his saddle and then discovered the driver's dinner bag containing sausage, loaf of bread and six boiled eggs.

Kitty searched through her luggage and then hid behind the stagecoach to change into her riding pants, a woolen sweater and some informal leather boots.

While she was getting changed, the cowboy cut off some of the leather harness that was strewn on the ground and fashioned a shoulder strap onto some luggage. Filling the suitcase with as many of the items that he could, he fastened it firmly and then went to bring the driver's body back to the stagecoach.

When he returned, he pulled Albert P. Jones from the coach and laid him next to the driver. Searching through the dead men's pockets, he found their wallets and then covered the bodies with some canvas that had been attached to the stagecoach.

As he stepped towards her, he caught the critical look in her eyes as she watched him pulling the bills out of the two wallets. "We may have to pay for help if we come across somebody, Kitty," he answered her questioning eyes. Packing the wallets into the suitcase, he threw it over his shoulder and stated, "We've got about four hours before sunset. I think we'll find suitable cover by then." Offering his hand to her, he squeezed it lightly and then said, "C'mon…we better get walking, Red".

As they trudged through the deep snow, Kitty quickened her steps to keep up with his long strides. Buoyed by his confident demeanour and the warmth emanating from his big hand engulfing hers, the redhead was beginning to feel more optimistic.

Suddenly he abruptly stopped and she almost crashed into him. Standing solid, he searched the wide-open space for a suitable spot to bed down for the night. Tugging on his arm, she softly stated, "Are you sure we're going in the right direction?"

Turning towards her, the serious look on his face abruptly turned to an ample smile. "I figure Dodge City is southeast of here. Look at where the sun is headin' to set…that's southwest. Pretty simple, really".

'Yeah, real simple, Cowboy,' she thought to herself. And then out loud, "You still not remembering anything?"

Shrugging his shoulders, he replied, "Nope, not a thing…well, besides geography, that is."

Smiling girlishly, she looked him over approvingly and then announced, "You look like a Ben, to me. I'm gonna call you Ben. Okay?"

Briefly looking at her quizzically, the young man chuckled and said, "That'll be fine, Kitty." Searching through his coat pocket, he pulled out a pair of fur insulated leather gloves and handed them to her. "Put these on…your hands are starting to get cold."

They walked for two more hours until the redhead noticed that Ben was starting to slow down. When she detected a slight stagger, she pulled on his arm and declared, "We need to rest for a bit, Ben…you're getting tired."

Rubbing his forehead, the cowboy replied, "Yeah…I'm kinda feeling dizzy. Maybe we could make camp in that wooded area over there."

Offering her shoulder for support, Kitty walked with him for another twenty minutes until they reached the trees. Assisting the big man as he sat down on an old stump, she quietly encouraged, "Just rest for a bit, Ben. We can set up camp in no time." Handing the big gloves back to him, she checked on his bandages and decided she could wait until later to redress it. Pulling the canteen off his shoulder, she uncorked it and offered him a few swigs of water. Patting him on the shoulder, Kitty stated, "You just sit here for a bit, Ben. I'll rummage through that suitcase and see what we can have to eat."

After a brief rest, Ben set about getting a fire going and building a small shelter for sleeping. When he finished with the shelter, he gathered up some firewood and then returned to the campsite. Noticing that the redhead had managed to roll a log nearby the fire, he chuckled and said, "Beats sitting in the snow, doesn't it?" Dropping down to the log, he gratefully accepted a pan that was laden with sausage, boiled eggs and fried bread.

Within an hour of sunset, the temperature dropped dramatically, so Ben got up and threw a couple of logs on the fire. They sat up for another hour, sipping on a flask of whisky, while Kitty recalled Albert P. Jones, Bob the stagecoach driver and the horrible accident that took their lives.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Remembering Ben**_

by blendini

_**Chapter Two**_

She lay awake for a long while, feeling the frigid night air piercing through her skin as it settled into every crook and cranny of her body. Thankful that the young man had insisted that she sleep on the bedroll, she pulled the blanket over her nose and attempted to warm herself by exhaling a few times.

Finally giving up on her fruitless efforts, she whispered, "Ben…are you awake?" Not hearing a response, she raised her voice to repeat the question and finally heard some rustling beside her.

"What is it, Kitty?" the young man quietly asked.

"I'm freezing…I can't sleep," she replied with a slight whine in her voice.

Rolling on his side, Ben grabbed the bedroll and pulled her closer to him. Tucking his arm under her neck, he pulled her into his chest and started rubbing her arm, shoulder and back. Only stopping to wrap part of his blanket around her, he continued to vigorously rub her in an effort to warm her up. "How's that feel…is it helping any?"

Enjoying the attention and the sudden warmth, the young redhead softly uttered, "Um hmm…that's much better, Ben." Nestling into his chest, she closed her eyes and delighted in the big man's attempts to take care of her.

The following morning, Ben got up early and hastily built a fire. Setting a snow-filled pot on the fire to boil, he grabbed the rifle and went off to see if he could hunt down something to eat. When he returned, he smiled when he noticed the redhead was still sleeping soundly. Expertly skinning and cleaning the rabbits he had shot, he skewered each of them with a branch and then set them over the flaming fire.

They took their time eating breakfast, both avidly enjoying each other's company and not really wanting to begin their long walk. Placing the cooking gear back into the suitcase, Ben closed the fasteners and then hauled it up onto his shoulder and regretfully stated, "Guess we better head out now, Kitty."

Slogging onwards for about four hours, they briefly stopped for a quick rest and a bite to eat. After continuing for another two more hours, Kitty could feel her tired legs getting weaker. As she tried to press onwards, her legs felt heavy and awkward, until she finally came to a standstill. "I can't…Ben…my legs…they just won't move anymore," she cried out in frustration.

Turning to see the frustrated young woman looking at him apologetically, Ben stepped over to her and gently wiped the tears off her cheeks. Bending down, he swooped one arm around her mid-back and one under her knees and swiftly picked her up. "Well, we'll just have to make sure your legs get some rest then, Kitty," he said with an affable grin.

Running her hand inside his coat and along his expansive back, the redhead looped her thumb into his belt and pressed her face into his chest. With a deep sigh, she closed her eyes and tried to push away the frightening thoughts of their possible demise.

Traveling for another hour, a weary Ben finally sighted a good location to settle for the night and then quickly went about setting up camp.

At bedtime, the young couple cuddled close together, this time without hesitation. Staring up into the crystal clear, star laden sky, Ben curiously inquired, "What do you do, Kitty…how have you made a living so far"

Uncertain how to reply, she tentatively stated, "Oh, I've worked in some entertainment establishments and the like."

"Um hmm," he grunted. "You're a dancehall girl," he said with an amused voice.

Pulling away from him, she defiantly snapped, "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothin'," he replied. "The world needs dancehall girls just as much as anyone else". Tugging on her arm, he convinced her to lie back down again. Then, in the silent, black night, he whispered, "I bet you've helped patch up a lot of lost souls, Kitty."

Nestling into his chest, she quietly murmured, "Sweet dreams, Ben."

The following morning, they warmed themselves around the huge fire that Ben had built, then quickly ate their breakfast and continued on their trek towards Dodge. As they tramped through the snow, the couple naturally fell into a comfortable stride, periodically holding hands, as if to reinforce their united commitment to survive. Along the way, the cowboy would occasionally question her about San Francisco or New Orleans and check to see if she was tiring from the long walk. The darkening northern sky didn't escape his watchful eye, but Ben didn't see any point in worrying the redhead.

Stopping briefly for a quick rest, they continued on for a few more hours until Ben suddenly halted in his tracks. Pointing off into the distance, he quietly stated, "Look over there, Kitty…what do you make of that?"

Screening her eyes from the bright prairie sun, Kitty strained to look in the direction he was pointing. Finally sighting a building in the distance, she excitedly replied, "Kinda looks like a farmhouse or something, Ben!"

"Yeah, it sure does, Kitty," he said. "Looks about four or five miles from here. How ya feelin'? Do you think you can make it, Red?"

Wrapping her hands around his arm, she eagerly replied, "Ben, I'd crawl there, it I had to. Let's go!"

Hurriedly, they made their way to the farmhouse, but as they got closer, their enthusiasm began to wane. Eying the ramshackle building, Ben remarked, "I don't think anyone has lived there for a long time." Hearing Kitty's dispirited sigh, he quickly added, "It will be a great place to bed down for the night…and I'll bet we find some supplies in there too."

Pushing the door open, Ben walked into the cabin and searched the room as if taking an inventory. 'Wood stove…great,' he commented to himself. 'Doors and windows are good…roofs not too bad.'

Wandering over to the kitchen area, he searched through the cupboards and found the usual cooking and eating implements. Reaching over to the water pump, he muscled the mechanism vigorously; quickly realizing it was frozen solid.

Looking over at the young woman, he could see the disappointment on her face as she looked around the dingy one room cabin. "Never mind, Kitty…we can get the fire goin' and clean this up. It will be real cozy in no time," he stated with a false exuberance.

They worked for as long as they could, cleaning and organizing the cabin so it would be habitable. Ben found some kerosene, filled the two lamps and promptly lit them. Hauling in some wood from the barn, he was able to stoke the kitchen stove up enough to efficiently warm the cabin. Obtaining two metal buckets in the dilapidated barn, the young man filled them with snow and then set them on the wood stove.

When they finally sat down for something to eat, they were both exhausted. With the approaching storm just miles away, they were grateful for the temporary haven. Raising a mug of coffee, the young man offered a warm smile and stated reassuringly, "That storm can howl all it wants tonight, but it won't be botherin' us, Kitty."

Eying his boyish grin, the redhead chuckled and asked, "Do you have any idea what day tomorrow is Ben?"

"Uhmmm…Thursday?" he guessed.

Leaning forward and offering an excited grin, Kitty eagerly stated, "It's Christmas, Ben! And this is Christmas Eve!" Patting the young man's hand, she looked at him with an astonishing sincerity and softly uttered, "I can't think of anyone I'd rather spend my Christmas with, Cowboy."

Taking her hand, he tenderly rubbed the back of it with his thumb and quietly stated, "Me too, Red." Hearing the sudden howl of a boisterous gust of wind, Ben turned towards the window and calmly stated, "Here she comes, Kitty…it's gonna be a real doozy". Then, with an impulsive exhilaration, he quickly remarked, "You know, there's gonna be a fresh snowfall in the morning. There'll be tracks everywhere and it'll be real easy to follow them. I'm gonna get you the biggest prairie chicken I can find for our dinner tomorrow!"

"That would be real fine, Ben," she stated as she got up and walked over to look out the window. Watching the wind blast the snow against the window, she turned and beamed at him. "I've never seen a snowstorm before!" Looking back at the swirling snow, she placed her hand on the window and watched in fascination.

So enthralled by the sight of the wondrous scene in front of her, she didn't notice the young man step beside her and wrap his arm around her shoulder. Offering her a flask of whisky, he said, "That's somethin' worth celebratin' Kitty. Tomorrow, you are going to have a lot of fun in that snow."

Taking a couple of sips of the whisky, she got up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. "I can hardly wait until tomorrow!" she gushed.

After a while, Kitty tired of looking at the snow beating on the window and walked over to the table and sat down. With a mischievous grin, she looked at the cowboy and suggested, "How 'bout a friendly game of cards, Ben?"

Offering her a piece of a chocolate bar, he shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Sure…what do ya wanna play?"

"Poker, of course," she answered nonchalantly. Walking over to the suitcase, she found the cards and started shuffling them and then sat across from him. Eyeing the young man, she smiled to herself and thought, 'Oh, this is going to be soooo much fun.'

Grabbing a box of wooden matches, he doled them out into two even piles and pushed one of the piles over to her. "Seven card stud high-low?" he asked.

"Sounds good, Cowboy," she answered as she started dealing the cards. "Just one change though," she stated with a coy smile. "Whoever loses the round, kicks in an article of clothing".

Leaning back in his chair, the young man looked at her for a moment and then a mildly cocky grin developed on his lips. "Alright…let's play".

Picking up her cards, Kitty squelched a smile and said, "We need an agreeable inventory. Let's see…you have two socks, pants, shirt, undershirt and underwear". With a cunning smile, she added, "We won't count your boots…that takes too long. I have two socks, pants, sweater, bra and panties…so we're the same. Fair?"

Perusing his cards, he grunted, "Yep," and then anteed up four matches.

Within the first three games, Kitty had won twenty-five matches, two socks and a shirt. She had to stifle a smirk as he stripped away his denim shirt. His swagger had finally succumbed to a much humbler look of concern.

When she won the fourth hand, he leaned forward and inquired, "You wouldn't happen to be cheatin' at all, would you Miss Kitty?"

"Why Ben Whatsyername…how could you say such a thing?" she asked with an overblown indignation. "Now gimme that undershirt, Mister!"

As he pulled the shirt over his head, she heard him mutter, "Entertainment establishments. More like New Orleans gambling houses." Lightly tossing the undershirt in her direction, he commented, "I was pretty sure that the queen of hearts was somewhere near the bottom of the deck." Noticing her staring intently at his chest, he asked, "What is it, Kitty?"

Locking eyes with him, she quietly said, "You have a pretty fresh looking scar on your shoulder that sure looks like a bullet wound." Watching him as he quickly searched for the scar, she added, "There's another mark on your left side and I have no idea what that is on your left arm."

Checking out the scars, Ben looked at her with a grave face and said, "Do you think I'm some kind of outlaw, Kitty?"

With a kindly smile, she remarked, "Well…then my big troubles just got a whole lot bigger, didn't they Cowboy?" As she caught the frown on his face, she shook her head and said, "Ben, I think of myself as a pretty good judge of character and never once have I sensed anything dangerous about you. Men get shot for a lot of reasons. I kinda suspected you might be a drover. Maybe someone was trying to rustle your cattle."

Climbing to his feet, he walked over to the suitcase and pulled out the other flask of whisky. Taking a couple of quick gulps, he returned to the table and handed it to her. "Maybe we'll find some answers when we get to Dodge". With a gloomy look, he quietly mused, "Maybe it'll be a good thing I can't remember who I am".

Rising out of her chair, she stepped close to him and reached up to tenderly stroke his cheek. "Bad spirited people don't suddenly become good just because they forget who they are, Ben. I can see that you have a whole lot of goodness in that big heart of yours." On tiptoes, she kissed his lips for several seconds. As his response started to become more ardent, she backed away and teased, "I still have another card game to win." Returning to sit in her chair, she adopted a smug smile and started shuffling the cards.

Ben won the next game, but his solemn disposition indicated that he had clearly lost interest in playing. Taking one last swig from the flask, he smiled at the redhead and said, "I'm pretty tired, Kitty. I think I'll hit the sack."

She looked on with sadness as the young man made his way over to the small bed at the other end of the room. Getting up, she quickly walked over, pulled off her boots and slipped into the bed beside him. Resting her head on his shoulder, she gently drew circles on his chest and softly uttered, "Your memory will come back, Ben. And you will see that you are a good man."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Remembering Ben**_

by blendini

_**Chapter Three**_

Awaking to the peaceful stillness of a fresh snowfall, Ben listened appreciatively to the engaging silence. Turning to look at the sleeping redhead, he felt a stirring deep inside as he viewed her beautiful young face. Taking in a deep breath of air, the cowboy speculated that the life he had before the stagecoach accident couldn't possibly be as satisfying as his present life.

Climbing out of bed, he quietly went over to the kitchen area and built a fire in the cook stove. Scooping some melted snow water from a bucket, he filled a pot and placed it on the stove. Gathering up his clothing, he quietly got dressed, grabbed his rifle and silently headed out the door.

Returning with a large prairie chicken, Ben quickly plucked the chicken and then hung it up on the porch rafters. When he stepped through the doorway, he looked over to see Kitty sitting at the table sipping on some coffee. Brushing the snow off his hat and coat, he removed his outerwear and placed them on a hook by the door.

As he walked towards her, she stood up and accepted his outstretched arms. As the couple hugged affectionately, Kitty softly uttered, "Merry Christmas, Cowboy."

Softly caressing her cheek with his fingers, he leaned down and gave her a long, tantalizing kiss. As he became more aroused she gently pushed him away. Donning an impish smile, she chirped, "Any luck hunting, Cowboy?"

With a disappointed frown, he replied, "I shot a nice big one…it's hanging outside".

While she went about making some breakfast, Ben told her about the root cellar he'd discovered and mentioned that he'd spotted some jars of green beans and some sort of jam. "Most of the jars are busted, but there are a couple that are fine…I'll bring them to you later," he explained. He didn't tell her about the huge oak whisky barrel he'd found in the barn, or the jug of apple cider hidden in an old bale of hay.

After breakfast they went outside and investigated the fresh crisp snowfall. Laughing as the young woman excitedly dashed around in the calf-deep snow, Ben shouted out, "Bet you've never made a snowman, Kitty." As he started rolling out the base for the snowman, the redhead darted over to see what he was doing. "Start rolling some snow like how I'm doin', Kitty," he instructed.

Finally securing a head onto the top of the larger balls of snow, Ben started searching around for some branches to use as arms and small stones for the facial features. When he returned, Kitty came out of the cabin and handed him a raggedy old hat and coat. "We gotta dress up Mr. Snowman…it's gonna get cold tonight, you know," she chirped.

Placing the finishing touches on the snowman, they stood back and laughed at the absurd looking snow monument. Still examining the bizarrely crooked head, Ben suddenly felt a burst of snow smack the side of his head. Spotting the saucy grin on her face, he briskly shook the snow off and shook his head at her. With a playful smile, he said, "You really shouldn't have done that, Red…you're in big trouble now."

With a girlish yelp, she started running towards the cabin, but felt his solid grip before she even came close to reaching the porch.

As he hauled her down, he protected her fall by placing his arms around her back and head. Pinning her back to the snowy blanket, he smiled tauntingly and stated, "Do you know what a face wash is, Kitty?"

Looking at him innocently, she meekly answered, "No?"

Maintaining his solid hold on her, he explained, "That's when a girl does somethin' foolish, like what you just did and then she has to get a face full of snow."

With pleading eyes, she nervously stated, "But you wouldn't do that, would you Ben? You're too nice of a fella to do that…aren't you?"

Snatching a handful of snow, he held it over her face and mercilessly sprinkled a few flakes down on her. "You have to beg for my forgiveness now," he teased.

Thinking quickly, she did what comes second nature to a saloon girl. In an attempt to distract the young man, she offered a devastatingly seductive smile and stated in a low, sultry voice, "You have a thing for kissing frozen lips, do you Cowboy?"

Locking eyes with her for a few seconds, he finally surrendered to her wicked plan and kissed her lips tenderly. Feeling her wet tongue dart across his lips encouraged a more passionate response as he continued with a volley of soft, breezy kisses.

Suddenly feeling the shocking sensation of cold snow on his neck and tumbling down his back, he leapt to his knees and started to dig the snow out of his shirt. Ben let off a hearty laugh when he saw Kitty racing towards the porch, with her red ponytail swinging pertly. Shaking his head, he got up and headed for the cabin, quietly muttering, "She's a little vixen, that one."

While she went about getting the chicken ready for the oven, Ben went out to the barn and inspected the oak barrel he had discovered earlier in the day. Checking over the chimney pipes on an old wood stove, he decided it was safe enough to build a fire and then he went about retrieving a few buckets of snow, placing them precariously on the stove top.

Cleaning the barrel as best he could, he started to pour the buckets of heated water into it and then returned the snow-filled buckets back to the stove. Before making his way to the cabin, he crept down into the cellar and collected the jars of beans and jam. As he started to leave the cold room, he spotted an odd looking sack of vegetables and some corn flour. Hauling the items back to the cabin, he burst through the door and placed them on the table. Pulling out the unidentified vegetable, he looked it over and said, "I don't know what these things are…kinda look like orange potatoes."

Stepping over to him, she stated, "Oh…those are yams…that's great, Ben!" Snatching the sack of yams from the table, she skirted over to the kitchen counter and started peeling them with a knife.

So caught up in her meal preparation, Kitty didn't notice the number of times he kept leaving the cabin, or even the disappearance of the two metal buckets. She didn't notice when he rummaged through the suitcase and carried away an armload of its contents, either.

After hearing her calling to him, Ben came back from the barn and stepped into the cabin, toting the chilled jug of apple cider in his arm. Astonished by the graceful table arrangement and the appetizing meal, he shook his head in amazement. As he slowly walked towards the table, he was flabbergasted as to how she'd managed to transform the dreary cabin into a tastefully charming and festive abode.

Responding to her gesture to take a seat, he quickly sat down and waited for her to come to the table. Pouring off two mugs of cider, he placed one by her plate and then put the jug on the floor. As she made her way to the table, he leapt to his feet and held her chair out for her as she sat down.

Eying the mug of cider, she grinned at him slyly and uttered, "You're full of surprises, aren't you?" Taking a tentative sip, she raised her brows and said, "It's not bad…not bad at all." Reaching over and touching his hand, she softly stated, "Before I can start eating, I gotta say that I'm truly grateful that you have come into my life, Ben. I think you're the best friend I've ever known." With tears welling in her eyes, she leaned over and kissed his cheek and added, "You're the only reason I'm still alive right now. Merry Christmas, Cowboy".

Touched by her words, the young man replied, "I'm thankful for knowing you too, Kitty.

As the big cowboy dove into his meal, Kitty enjoyed a meal that had to be the tastiest she'd ever eaten. Noticing that the young man took his food eating really seriously, she kept the conversation light, with few questions. When they finished eating, they sat back and sipped on the cider, both feeling completely relaxed and contented.

As she started to clear the dishes, Ben crept out to the barn for a few moments and then hurried back to the cabin. Walking over to the dinner table, he topped up their mugs with cider and then carried them over to an old stuffed chair that Kitty had covered with a blanket. Placing the mugs on a crate next to the chair, he called over to her, "We can clean that up later, Kitty. Why don't you come over here and sit for a while?"

As she moved towards him, he took her hand and led her to the chair. Sitting down, he pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her waist.

They cuddled together for a while, only taking breaks to sip on some cider or to briefly kiss. As the alcohol started to take effect, the redhead sunk into his chest and let off a contented sigh. Kissing her on the top of her head, Ben remarked, "You don't wanna go to sleep before you've had your present, do you?"

Eyes snapping wide open, she gazed up at him with a perplexed look and asked, "Present…what present?"

Enjoying the little game, he vaguely stated, "Well, there's a present around here, for you". Tightening his arms around her waist, he teased, "Maybe I should make you guess what it is."

Unsuccessfully trying to push away from him and get up, she pouted in frustration and curtly replied, "Well how the heck would I know what it is?"

Chuckling softly, he loosened his grip and replied, "It's in the barn."

Jumping off his lap, she rushed to the door and excitedly fumbled at putting on her boots. As she threw on her coat, she noticed his playful smile as he stepped by her and opened the door.

"Don't slip in the snow in all your excitement, Kitty," he chirped as she raced over to the barn and hastily threw open the door.

Glancing at his beaming face, she viewed her present with amazement. "That's where that chair got to," she stated as she looked at the towels slung over the back of it and the soap on the seat. Next to the soap, sat a mug and a bucket full of snow, with the top of the champagne bottle poking out. She brought her hand to her mouth as she gazed at the large oak tub, filled almost to the brim with steaming hot water. Next to the bath, he had thoughtfully laid down several boards on the dirt floor, so she wouldn't get her feet dirty when she stepped out of the tub. On the opposite side of the barrel, was a crate that had an orange flamed lantern placed on top of it. Noticing that the barn felt warm, she looked around and spotted the wood stove, with two buckets of hot water simmering on the top.

With moist eyes, she turned and presented him with a bountiful smile. "Like I said…I am eternally grateful for having you in my life, Ben."

Helping her take off her coat, he walked over to the chair and placed the champagne bucket on the ground beside it. Reaching out to her, he guided her over to the chair and urged her to sit down. Kneeling down, he pulled off each off her boots and set them on the ground. Climbing to his feet, he quietly said, "I'll be back in twenty minutes or so to see if you want some more hot water." Grinning broadly, he walked out of the barn and closed the door behind him.

Quickly stripping off her clothes, the young woman stepped into the glorious hot water and slowly lowered her body down to a sitting position. Reaching over and snatching the champagne, she poured some in a mug and took a couple of sips. Placing the mug on the chair, she grabbed the soap and then leaned back and sank into the tub. With a contented smile, she softly uttered, "Oh my gosh, that man is adorable."

Just as promised, he eventually returned to the barn and made his way over to the stove. "You ready for some more water, Kitty," he asked as he tried not to look in her direction.

"This is heavenly, Ben…oh yes…more water…that would be wonderful!" she declared. Watching as the young man hauled two buckets over to the tub, she couldn't miss how he kept looking away. With a soft chuckle, she lowered herself into the bathwater in an effort to cover her nakedness.

As he poured the buckets into the barrel, Kitty could see his cheeks flushing as he kept his eyes averted. Surprised at his bashfulness, she wondered how such a handsome and attractive man could be so modest.

When he finished pouring the water, he quickly made his way back to the wood stove and placed some wood in the firebox. Heading back to the doorway, he stated, "See you in a while, Kitty," and then quickly closed the door behind him.

It was almost an hour later when she crept back into the cabin. Feeling tremendously relaxed, she padded over to the stuffed chair and flopped into it. "That was simply marvelous," she stated in a soft tone.

Smiling to himself as he put the last of the clean dishes away, he walked over to the door and put on his coat. "I'll go empty that tub…I don't want it to freeze up overnight."

Briskly making his way over to the barn, he closed the door behind him and stepped over to the tub. 'That water hardly looks used,' he thought to himself as he stripped off his clothes. Stepping into the tepid water, he quickly sat down and started lathering his naked body.

Satisfied that he was clean enough, he rinsed himself off and grabbed a towel as he climbed out of the barrel. Robustly wiping his body with the towel, he reached out for his clothing and started getting dressed.

Using a couple of pails to empty the tub, he tipped it over and let the remainder of the water flow out. Grabbing up the towels, mugs and pail with the champagne, he made his way back to the cabin and placed the items on the table. Looking over at the redhead, he could see that she had fallen off to sleep, so he walked over to her side and carefully picked her up. Carrying her over to the bed, he gently tucked her in and kissed her on the cheek. Stripping down to his pants, he climbed in beside her and snuggled his face into her neck. Taking in a long breath, he closed his eyes and breathed in the light fragrance of lavender. After a few minutes, the young man drifted off into a deliciously comfortable and restful sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Remembering _Ben**

by blendini

_**Chapter Four**_

Slowly awaking to the sensation of his warm breath, she could feel his lips gently brushing her neck. Lifting his heavy arm from her waist and placing it on his side, she turned her head to look at his sleeping face. Smelling the lavender soap in his hair, she quietly chuckled and brushed his cheek with the back of her hand.

Suddenly hearing the sound of voices outside the cabin, she shook him and anxiously whispered, "Ben…there's someone outside! Wake up!" Seeing his eyes snap open, she followed him as he climbed out of the bed.

Grabbing his boots, he raced over to the door and pulled on his coat. "Stay inside, Kitty…I'll see what they want," he instructed. Quickly putting on his boots, he picked up the rifle by the door and cautiously walked outside.

As a wagon with two men made its way over to the farmhouse, Ben gripped the rifle firmly and rested the barrel on his left arm. When one of the men hopped out of the wagon and started making his way to the steps, the young cowboy steadfastly held onto the rifle and studied the oncoming visitor. Noticing the visitor's stiff leg, Ben looked at the friendly smiling face and was startled when he vaguely recognized him.

Making his way up the stairs, the visitor uttered his relief, "Oh my gosh! Mr. Dillon…we've been so worried about you." Scanning the broken down building, he added, "What on earth are you doing here?"

Eying the visitor sceptically, Ben stated, "I know you, don't I?"

With a bewildered look, the visitor replied, "It's Chester Goode, Mr. Dillon. Is this some kind of game you're playing at?"

"Chester," he quietly repeated. Looking at the puzzled visitor, he briefly explained the accident and the subsequent loss of memory. As Kitty stepped outside, she overheard Ben ask, "Where did you come from?"

"Dodge…it's only a few miles away," Chester replied, taking time to appraise the attractive young redhead. Returning his attention to Ben, he explained, "We'd heard about the stagecoach accident, but it took a few days to track you down. We figured that you would have headed off to Garden City."

Jumping off the wagon, the burly Dodge City blacksmith marched over to the porch and shot his hand out to the young man. "Welcome home, Marshal. It sure is good to see you're okay."

Glancing over at Kitty, the cowboy mouthed, "Marshal."

"Yeah," the blacksmith boomed with a huge grin. "US Marshal Matthew Dillon…and I'm sometime deputy and blacksmith, Jesse Parker".

It took a couple of hours for the wagon and passengers to reach Dodge City. Matt and Kitty sat silently on the back of the buckboard with their legs dangling over the edge. When the wagon rolled to a stop in front of the Dodge House, the lawman quietly stated, "You get yourself a room, Kitty and I'll come over and take you to lunch around one." Helping her down from the wagon, he smiled at her warmly and commented, "Don't worry about money. I'll find whatever you need, okay?"

Watching her disappear inside the hotel, he turned to Chester and inquired, "Where's the jailhouse?"

Grabbing the suitcase from the wagon, Chester nodded to Jesse and then stepped up onto the boardwalk. "Right this way, Mr. Dillon…it's just a short way along here."

When he entered the jailhouse, a flash of memories flooded the marshal's thoughts. Looking around the office he spotted several familiar items and then turned to look at the door, as it swung open.

A short little man in a taciturn suit stepped into the office and blithely chirped, "It's about time you got back to work. Where in tar nation have you been, Matt?" Walking over to the wood stove, he helped himself to some coffee and then continued, "Do you know that people have been searching for days?"

As an affectionate look swept across his face, the lawman softly uttered, "Doc."

While Chester quickly explained what he knew of Dillon's past few days, the doctor eyed the marshal closely. Stepping over to him, he barked, "Well, how can I examine your head while it's up around the ceiling. For heaven's sake, Matt, will you sit down?"

Checking over the head wound, the doctor curiously mused, "So, there was a young woman with you. Where did you meet up with her, Matt?"

"She was on the stagecoach when it stopped in Pueblo. We were the only ones to survive the accident," the lawman dutifully reported.

"Well, she did a good job caring for this injury. It's healed up really good." Swiping his moustache, he smiled at the lawman and said, "When do I get to meet this young lady?"

Frowning at the older man's nosy questions, Matt shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Later. I'll bring her by the Long Branch tonight". Noticing the inquisitive look on the doctor' face, he impatiently quipped, "Okay?"

Heading for the door, the doctor snapped, "Well, I see you're pretty much back to your secretive self!" Stepping out the door, Doc smiled gleefully and said, "Course, makes me wonder what you're being so secretive about. Oh Matt. Merry Christmas." Closing the door behind him, the doctor breathed out a sigh of relief and then slowly made his way back to his office.

Pulling out the wallets from the suitcase, Matt jotted down the names and hometowns of the two dead men. Stuffing the money back in the wallets, he placed them in the desk drawer and then headed over to the telegraph office. After sending off messages to the law offices in both hometowns, the marshal hastily made his way over to the Dodge House.

Glancing at the badge pinned to his shirt and the gun belt strapped to his waist, the redhead softly uttered, "So, you really are a lawman, Ben". Remembering his real name, she adorned an affectionate smile and said, "Matt."

With an almost imperceptible sigh, he smiled slightly and replied, "Yeah."

As they ate lunch, she quizzed him about Dodge City and the outlying areas, mostly avoiding conversations about her future or his career. When they finished lunch, he walked her back to the hotel and stood with her in the lobby for a few minutes.

"Kitty…uh...we need to talk". Looking around the lobby, he continued, "It's real hard for me to find any privacy in this town. I want to talk to you before you go heading off to New Orleans, okay?"

"Well, I hadn't planned on rushing off right away anyhow," she commented. Feeling a swirling in her stomach, the young woman smiled to herself and then stated, "Thanks for lunch, Matt. I think I'll spend the afternoon looking around town. See what Dodge is like from a female perspective."

"Alright, Kitty". Pushing his hat back, he chewed on his lip and said, "Would you like to go for a drink tonight?"

"Sounds good, Matt. Come and get me around eight?" she asked.

"Yeah," he answered as he tugged on the brow of his hat and then headed for the door.

Matt spent the rest of the day trying to familiarize himself with his office and checking through the pile of mail and notices on his desk. Chester stopped by periodically and hovered over his friend, making sure he was comfortable and well enough to take on his lawman duties.

When eight o'clock finally rolled around, the marshal headed over to the hotel, but was disappointed to find that Kitty was out. Waiting for a short while, Matt decided to make his way over to the Long Branch, in the hopes of finding her there.

As he entered the saloon doors, he immediately spotted her sitting at a table with Doc and Bill Pence. Hearing her throaty laugh from across the room, he walked over and stated, "I see you've met the seedier members of our community, Kitty. I was hopin' I could shelter you from that experience."

With a loud guffaw, Bill got to his feet and offered his hand. "It's a relief to see you back, Marshal. Can I get you a beer?"

Shaking the saloon keepers hand, Matt replied, "Thanks Bill," and then sat next to Kitty. Looking over at the doctor, he declared, "You always gotta meet every pretty woman that comes to Dodge, don't you Doc?"

"Well," the doctor quipped, "I'm not the one that dragged the poor girl across the prairie to bring her home."

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Matt momentarily clenched his jaw and then turned to the young woman and inquired, "So, what do you think of Dodge, Kitty?"

"I like it fine, Matt," she replied. As Bill placed a beer in front of the lawman, she added, "Bill has offered me a job here at the Long Branch."

Taking a gulp of beer, Matt tried to hide his ambivalence. Placing the mug down on the table he stared at it for a few seconds and then without looking up, he asked, "So…what did you decide?"

Unable to determine what he was thinking, she answered, "I told him I would work for a month, then let him know for sure."

With a growing uneasiness, Dillon took another few gulps of beer, trying very hard to hide his dismay. Placing the half empty mug on the table, he looked at the redhead apologetically and said, "Kitty, I have a lot of catching up to do over at the office". Climbing to his feet, he picked up his hat and continued, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

As he started for the door, she quickly caught up to him and pulled on his arm. "What is it, Matt? What's wrong with you?"

Glancing around the room, he ushered her out the door and along the boardwalk. Looking into her questioning eyes, he cleared his throat and inquired, "Can't you find some other work, Kitty?"

"Why?" she asked with a hint of anger.

Looking away from her, he quietly admitted, "I…I can't live here knowing…" Taking in a deep breath, he blurted, "Seeing you with other men."

Feeling annoyed, but at the same time pleased, Kitty informed, "I will be balancing the Long Branch books and taking charge of the bar. Of course I will be sharing the odd drink with a customers, but it will be up to me who I want to sleep with, Marshal Dillon". The discomfort radiating from the tension in his reddening cheeks brought a slight smile to her face. Slipping a key into the palm of his hand, she lowered her voice and whispered, "There's only one man in this town that I want, anyways". With a coy smile, she added, "I'm in room six. See you later, Cowboy.

As he watched her hurrying back to the saloon, he smiled to himself and thought, 'Dodge City just became a whole lot more than a cow town, that's for sure'.

On his way back to his office, Matt wondered how quickly he could get his evening rounds completed. Anyone watching would immediately have noticed the lightness to his usually determined walk. In fact, Doc Adams, who happened to be standing at the saloon doors, thought the marshal's newly acquired gait suited him just fine.

The End

***Season's Greetings to GS fans wherever you may be. May you all have a New Year filled with peace, love and great happiness!***


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